Gone, But Not Forgotten
by RisingPhoenix7
Summary: They came from nowhere and soon returned, but they left their mark on those who became close to them. These are the stories of those whose lives were changed by the Devil Hunters, and who changed their lives in turn.
1. World C185, Subject:Leon 1

I've been meaning to get around to this for a while now, but this story is an anthology of what happens with the characters that our heroes interacted with. They're going to be mostly side stories, but don't be surprised if a few things from here pop up in the main storyline!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 1: New Mission**

Leon drummed his fingers idly on the car door's windowsill as it trundled along the dirt trail. He ignored the mutterings of his traveling companions; they'd never asked if he could speak Spanish, so he'd never told them that he could. So far they'd mostly kept their complaints to inter-governmental politics, but at least twice they'd also referred to him as "Mr. Stick-Up-The-Ass". It didn't matter; they could think whatever they wanted as long as they got the job done.

He scanned the folder once more, wanting to take the opportunity to review the case, but as focused as his mind could get on a mission, it always tended to wander beforehand, especially when he'd already studied the notes once. And, as always, his mind preferred to tread familiar ground…

 _Leon woke up, blinking wearily. He looked around the train car, careful not to stir too much with Claire next to him. Annette was exactly as she'd been before he'd slept; breathing slowly and deeply, even with her face looking as troubled as it was. Sherry was still sound asleep with her head resting in Claire's lap._

 _And no one else was there._

 _He'd known that would be the case, of course. Leon was sure that they would be okay, but all the same, the train car felt so…empty now._

 _Leon took a steadying breath, and then reluctantly removed his arm from Claire's. As much as he didn't want to risk interrupting her sleep, he couldn't put nature's call on hold forever._

 _Once he returned, Claire was awake as well. "Didn't mean to wake you," he whispered._

" _It's okay." She looked around the train car, a look of resigned disappointment on her face. "…So they're really gone, huh?"_

" _Yeah." The engine car was still rattling along the tracks, but light was now streaming through the windows._

" _It's too quiet in here."_

"… _Yeah. I could probably scrounge up a few drumsticks, if it would help."_

 _She tried to smile, but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. "Maybe later."_

" _Well, even if we're not looking for musical entertainment, we should still search this car. Who knows if we're out of the woods yet?"_

 _She nodded, and they began looking around for supplies. Sherry woke up while they were doing so, but they kept their voices down anyway, for Annette's sake._

" _Are you KIDDING me?!"_

… _Well, they tried. But honestly, who wouldn't have been shocked to find a minigun under one of the bench seats and a rocket launcher under another?_

 _The train began to slow, the sun outside indicating it was mid-morning. "We'll probably get to the next town before lunchtime," Leon observed._

" _Let's hope so," remarked Claire. "We could use some time to recuperate."_

It had been four years since that night in Raccoon City. As soon as they'd reached the next town, they were approached by government agents who wanted a full story. They'd provided one, and every single bit of evidence they had on them. Leon and Annette agreed to testify against Umbrella, and for Leon to join a government task force, on the condition that Annette receive medical care for her injuries and that Sherry would have no involvement with the government whatsoever.

Still, there were a few caveats…

" _Are you sure?"_

 _Claire nodded, pulling on her shirt. "It's like you said; even if Umbrella goes down publicly, it won't end until every one of their labs and factories are shut down permanently. If I can find my brother, we can work together with his team to put an end to it once and for all." She buckled the straps over her shirt, attaching her knife holster. "I'll say goodbye to Sherry, and then I'll be leaving with whatever vehicle those agents are willing to spare."_

" _Take care of yourself."_

 _She looked at Leon, surprised. "You're not going to try to stop me?"_

" _It's important to you, right? Then don't worry about us; we'll be fighting too."_

 _She turned away from him, sighing. "Sherry's going to be heartbroken when I tell her. I wish there was something I could do; she's been through too much already. Seeing her face is going to make it tough for me to leave." Claire felt Leon's arms wrap around her from behind, smiling as she sighed once more. "As will that."_

" _Better be careful saying things like that, or I might never let you go."_

" _Promises, promises." She let out a content sigh as his hands slid down her sides…_

He shook himself slightly, reluctantly pushing that thought away and looking at the folder. _Ashley Graham, age 17 and daughter of President Graham. Kidnapped 90 hours ago by unknown individuals; number and affiliation unknown. No ransom demands made, no proof of life given. Received intel 18 hours ago that a possible sighting may have occurred in a small Spanish village. Agent sent to confirm._ Funny; they forgot to add "because he doesn't have anything else to do for the next week" at the end. And he'd just started to enjoy his impromptu vacation, too.

His eyes drifted again. Somehow, they had put their time in Raccoon City behind them and moved forward with minimal problems. There had been a few close calls, though. Just last year, they'd taken a trip to Rome that had been going pretty well until the second day, when they'd returned to the hotel. There had been a tall, bald man talking at the counter with the manager, and he just so happened to be wearing a dark green coat. Leon had gone for his gun on instinct, but fortunately Claire was holding his right hand already and hers had clenched powerfully as her whole body tensed, while Sherry, holding Claire's right hand, hurriedly whispered "It's not him!" They'd gotten a few funny stares, but thankfully that had been the worst of it; at least the nightmares for the next three evenings didn't need to be on public display.

His eyes closed, and he felt his focus slipping away.

* * *

What felt like a mere second later, he felt himself being shaken. Leon stirred, opening his eyes. They seemed to be at the location specified.

He felt himself snap awake. Leon nodded to the officers, exiting the vehicle. He walked forward to the small stone wall in front of him; the vehicle, having done its job of delivering him, turned around and left. "Nice to meet you too," Leon grumbled. He pulled a satellite video phone from his belt and flicked it on. "This is Leon. I'm at the drop point."

It crackled, and a display screen flickered to life, showing the face of a dark-haired woman with glasses. "Roger that, Leon," responded Ingrid Hunnigan, his operations coordinator. "You're ahead of schedule, as usual. Any complications?"

"None yet, but don't get your hopes up."

She rolled her eyes. "I never do on your missions. The insertion point is a five minute walk to the north. From there, your objective is to investigate the town and do whatever you can to rescue the target. This should go without saying, but…"

"But quick and quiet does the job best," he finished for her.

Ingrid nodded. "Leon…technically speaking, you've got five minutes until the mission officially starts. Do you want me to patch you through to her?"

"…Yeah. Thanks, Hunnigan."

He waited for a few moments, and then a young woman's face appeared on the device's screen. She beamed as she looked at him. "Leon!"

"Hey, kiddo. Everything going okay?"

"When are you ever going to stop calling me that? I'm a teenager," she insisted, sticking out her tongue. Even in just four years, Sherry had grown so much; she was going to high school, and was now big enough that Claire's jacket actually fit her quite comfortably over the white button-up sweater she was wearing. As usual, her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. "I went to visit Mom today; she's doing a lot better. The doctors say her condition is improving; she only falls asleep during the early afternoon now."

"That's good to hear. Any problems with that guy from before?"

She shook her head. "I think you might have scared him off last time. I don't know why the government would employ a creep like him; I still can't believe he threatened us like that!"

Leon's eyes narrowed as he recalled the confrontation. The last time they were visiting Annette at her care facility two weeks ago, a man in a suit with a very high opinion of himself (and a very low opinion of Leon) had barged into the room right after she'd dozed off. He'd insinuated that Sherry should give herself up for government testing if she wanted her mother to have continued care, and implied that she had no proper guardians for good measure. Leon had been content to let her verbally tear into the jerk for several minutes, but then the man had made a very grave mistake. Right after telling Sherry that "a little girl like her" couldn't understand the real world, he'd grabbed her arm.

That was when Leon snapped.

Forgetting the fact that Sherry was more than capable of handling some arrogant pencil-pusher, or the fact that they were at someone's bedside, Leon had made the man release her, then put him in an armlock while very calmly explaining that his deal with the government was non-negotiable, just as it had been after they'd escaped Raccoon City. To make sure the man understood his position, Leon added "I fought my way through a city of one hundred thousand zombies and monsters to protect her, so what do you think I'll do to _you_?" He also _might_ have put enough pressure into the hold to dislocate the man's shoulder.

He'd been issued an official reprimand from his superiors, and Ingrid had informed him, while looking like she was holding back a proud smile, that his punishment was a three week-long paid suspension. Whispers at the training camp said that the man who had accosted Sherry and Leon had been reassigned.

"…Leon, you still there?"

He blinked, coming out of his reverie. "Sorry, yeah. I'm here."

"Is that something I can look forward to when I'm an adult? Being rude to people on a phone call without consequences?"

Leon chuckled. "We both know there are always consequences. For example, now I have to buy you ice cream. Cherry nut, right?" She frowned, sighing. "What? Do you have a different favorite now?"

"It's not that. Claire promised me the same thing to make up for taking longer on her trip. I wish you two would be home longer between stuff…and your bosses dropping this mission on you while you're on leave doesn't really help."

He forced a smile. "Well, I'll just have to twist the arm of another government snob. There's plenty more out there…"

Sherry snickered. "Maybe. Just take care of yourself, okay? Claire should be home in four days, so I want you to be back to surprise her by then."

"Sounds like a plan."

"You promise?" she asked, clutching her locket nervously.

"I promise I'll be back soon," he said.

"Okay; I won't forget!"

"I'm counting on it. And I'm also counting on you having your homework done by then."

She winced guiltily. "Uh…sorry, there's…kchhhh…static …kchhh…"

He didn't have the heart to challenge her, so he just said "We'll see each other soon. Be good!"

"No…kchhhh…problem!" She winked, and the call ended.

Leon smirked, returning the video phone to his belt. It was a mile-long hike to the abandoned village that was his destination; might as well get moving.

* * *

CHAPTER END

Happy New Year, everyone! Hope you had a good holiday season, and that you have a great year moving forward!


	2. World C185, Subject:Jill 1

**Chapter 2: The Dying City**

 _September 27th, 1998_

Jill hurled herself over the debris, throwing her arms out to turn her fall into a somersault. She sprang back up without losing hardly any momentum, pulling her pistol from its side holster and firing twice behind her. The groans of the undead seemed to be stopped behind the wreckage she'd leapt over, but she wasn't taking any chances.

She sprinted forward, and saw that her alleyway was rapidly approaching a dead end with what looked like a heavy door as the only possible way out. Gritting her teeth, she went all out, jumping forward and kicking both legs out fiercely as she did. The door was obviously very thick metal, and though the impact shook throughout her body, it had jarred the door open. She picked herself up quickly as she heard the barking of dogs, darting through the open door and then throwing all her weight behind the door to seal it. It closed just in time, and she knocked a metal bar across it to wedge it in place. It wouldn't hold; she could already see the door shudder from the sheer weight of all the undead, but it would slow them down, and she continued running.

She wasn't quite sure how long she'd kept running before she found the door that lead to her temporary refuge; a warehouse that she and another survivor had holed up in. She threw it open and bolted through, slamming it shut behind her. Jill panted heavily, her breath ragged and her heart pounding. "Dario…" she gasped. "Are you…here?"

"Here," his voice echoed in a monotone. She hadn't expected any more, really, but she'd take what she could get.

Finally catching her breath, she walked through the warehouse towards where she knew he would be curled up. "I was able to get a few supplies from the apartments, but there were no survivors, and it doesn't look like any rescue has been planned. This place won't be safe for much longer, so we need to leave, okay?"

"Won't go," he muttered. She rounded the box where she knew he had not moved from. He was on the floor; his knees were held tightly to his chest, and he was rocking gently back and forth. "Can't go." His eyes were wide and empty, looking forward at nothing in particular.

"Dario, please…" She knew from a cold, logical standpoint that taking him with would drastically decrease her survival chances, especially since he wasn't likely to recover any time soon, and she certainly wasn't going to leave him a gun when she only had one. But she had to try. "She wouldn't want you to stay and die like this."

"They ate her." His voice didn't raise, even at that statement. "Ate her. My little girl. She just started college; wanted to be a doctor. And now she's dead."

Jill sighed sadly. He'd been repeating this information for several hours, but she'd held hope that when she pulled him out of the path of the zombies he could stay as mobile as he had been. But he seemed determined to stay and die. "Listen, I can't stay here. This place won't be safe for long, and I'm not ready to die just yet. I'm sorry, but if you won't come under your own power, I'll have to leave you."

"Go. I don't care. They'll eat you too."

She clutched her pistol, walking towards their supplies. "Not if I have anything to say about it." Jill gathered what she would need to take with. As she did, a fleeting thought crossed her mind.

 _Where are you?_

With nothing else to occupy her mind, the memories came back. The night that had started everything…or rather, the end of it…

 _She felt herself awake from sleep, slightly cold. She drew her arms in to herself, feeling her hat crushed next to her stomach. For a moment, she remembered nothing, and a sense of peace began lulling her back to sleep. But then she remembered, and she jolted awake, her eyes flying open. "Dante!"_

 _He wasn't there. Nor were the three that had accompanied him. The only occupants of the helicopter were the six S.T.A.R.S. members._

 _Her sudden awakening had roused Chris from his own rest. He blinked at her, confused, and then realized what she was looking at. "Where'd they go?"_

" _Could they have fallen out?"_

 _He shook his head. "The door would be open, and someone would have noticed. Hey, Brad!" He turned to look at the pilot. "Where did our friends go?"_

 _He looked back at them. "Huh? What are you talking about?" He frowned as he saw the much emptier passenger area. "Hey, where'd the weird people go?"_

 _Jill felt the pit of her stomach drop. No…it couldn't be…they had said they couldn't stay, but they couldn't be just_ _ **gone**_ _..._

" _No…"_

She sighed, forcing the memory away and stuffing a spare clip into her sweater pocket. Absentmindedly, she ran a hand through her hair, brushing against the tiny red ribbon tied in the back. _I'm not going to die_. With her weapons and items ready, she exited through the warehouse's back door, giving a fleeting look at the area Dario was before closing the door.

The open streets were horrible.

The alleys were no picnic, but they did mean there were relatively small corridors that the zombies were funneled into. That kind of bottlenecking slowed them down, made them trip their fellows up, step all over them…not to mention that there were fire escapes to go up and over if need be. Out there, however, they were milling about, shuffling back and forth while the occasional distant sounds of screams and shots echoed.

Thus, she made no attempt to leave the alley she had come into, even staring down three zombies. She disposed of them, searching the area until she'd found some items that could come in handy; lighter oil, a shotgun, and a few handgun bullets. The shotgun, much to her relief, had a nearly full tube. "Nearly", as she'd found it clutched in the hands of its previous owner, the barrel pointing up into a head that was no longer there. Thankfully, it had a strap already attached; it was no problem to sling it over her back for easy access, even while using her pistol primarily.

It was quite fortunate that she'd found the extra firearm when she had, because it was shortly after that she encountered a demon.

Jill cursed as the purple gas rose up from a broken pipe, gathering into a cloud the size of a large dog. She stared at it, slowly raising her pistol and pointing it at the cloud. But nothing was happening.

Suddenly, it disappeared, and she heard a growling laughter from behind her. Jill whirled around, firing quickly. She had a glimpse of a spray of blood from…some sort of ethereal greenish octopus with glowing eyes before it snarled and was covered by the same purple gas from before.

 _The two are connected. But how?_ As an experiment, she fired into the cloud of gas; as expected, nothing happened. Unfortunate.

The gas disappeared, and once more she turned to fire. This time, however, there was just another cloud of purple gas. _Every time I turn around this thing is behind me! Wait._ A sudden idea struck her. She turned her back on the cloud, and then immediately turned back. She saw the outline of multiple tentacles and glowing yellow eyes before it faded into the gas cloud once more. _It only appears when I'm not looking at it._ She growled to herself. _This is ridiculous; how am I supposed to shoot it?_ She stared into the gas cloud, and it disappeared yet again. This time, however, she made no move to turn.

Jill heard a hissing behind her, and holstered her pistol. _I sure hope this works…_ The hissing grew louder, and she heard it edging closer. _Just a little more…_ A loud, hungry screech ran out, and she heard movement coming right for her. _Now!_ She spun the shotgun around to point over her shoulder. _BANG!_

She whirled around, and saw a translucent tentacled figure collapse to the ground before it dissolved into greenish blood. Jill let out the breath she'd been holding, cocking the shotgun before returning it to hang across her back. _That was insane and ridiculously lucky. He'd have been proud._ She smirked for a moment before continuing on her way.

* * *

"Glad to see you're still alive, Jill."

"You too, Brad." She reached down to help him off the floor of the bar they were in.

"Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn't shown up when you did, that zombie-"

"Never mind that for now! Where is everyone? And what's being done about evacuation?"

Brad laughed, but it lacked any real mirth. "'Evacuation'? We're a lost cause, Jill. There's no one coming for us. Well…" A dark, fearful look came over his face. "Not to help us, anyway. But there is someone…or some _thing_ coming for us. Both of us."

Jill blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see, sooner or later. He's after S.T.A.R.S. members; he won't let any of us escape." Brad walked to the door, looking backwards. "We'd better split up; I don't know how he's tracking us, so maybe it might confuse him or something."

"Brad-"

"Take care of yourself, Jill." And with that, Brad had left.

Jill sighed, searching through the bar for things that might help her. With nothing complicated to occupy her mind, it drifted back…

" _What do you mean, you're leaving?"_

 _They were in the S.T.A.R.S. Office; Chris was stuffing several things into a rucksack near his desk, and Jill was standing in front of him, with her hands on her hips. They'd been talking for minutes about Chris's distancing from the rest of the team, and then Chris had suddenly said he was leaving._

 _Chris smirked at her. "I'm done with it, Jill. I'm tired of dealing with the snide comments that Irons has been making, I'm tired of hitting a stone wall when it comes to investigating Umbrella, and I'm tired of waiting for a lead to take legal action against those corrupt monsters. I'm turning in my badge and packing my bags."_

 _She stared at him, shocked. To hear Chris say such things, when she'd been hoping he would stay to help with the legal action against Umbrella. "But Chris, what about the case against-"_

" _How are we supposed to take them down legally, Jill? Dante and his friends had all the evidence with them when they left to…wherever they went. We have no case against them. But that's not going to stop them from making more monsters, again and again until another one happens."_

 _A chill came over her. "'Another one'…what?"_

" _Another outbreak. It's not even an 'if'; you saw how insane the experiments in that place were. Wesker might be dead, but there's a dozen more that think just like he did; throw biology in a blender and set it to 'science', and they're happy. But I don't want them churning out lizard people or zombie tigers or any of the other freaks of nature they can think up. You've heard some of the messed up stuff that Rebecca saw; this is normal for them."_

 _Jill was silent for a few moments. "So what are you going to do?"_

" _How do you kill a zombie?" He tucked a clip-on laser sight into the bag, and then cinched it up. "You gotta take out the brain."_

 _She finally understood. "The Umbrella Main Offices." He nodded. "Chris…you'd be throwing everything away. You'll become a criminal."_

" _Not if I do it right." He grinned at her confused look. "I might be able to get sanctioned by a government agency if I can bring back just enough evidence that they can't ignore, but not enough that they try to continue it."_

" _But until then, you'll be considered a terrorist."_

 _He set his jaw into a hard line. "This is for Claire. I don't want her to ever have to go through something like this. If Umbrella can't exist, it can't hurt anyone anymore."_

She sighed. "Chris…"

* * *

CHAPTER END

And so we check in on Jill. She's got her work cut out for her, that's for sure! Anyway, hope you're all doing well!


	3. World C185, Subject:Leon 2

Leon always enjoyed hiking. He'd gotten teased about it by some of his fellow agents, being from a rural city and all, but it wasn't "because what else is there to do in the sticks". Rather, it was because it was nice to get away from the noise and people of the city, and the memories that would bubble up because of them.

Of course, the village he was hiking to was even more rural than where he'd originally come from, so points for perspective.

A few minutes after starting his hike, however, he heard a high-pitched whining. He drew his gun, advancing slowly towards the noise; it sounded like a dog. He moved off the path and into the sparse forest, and soon found the source of the noise. Leon had been close; it was not a dog, but a wolf with a large coat of fur. It was in some sort of puddle just below a runoff pipe, which was currently spilling dirty water onto the animal and raising the water level around it.

The wolf looked at him, and in its predicament, it almost seemed to be pleading. Leon quickly holstered his pistol, striding towards it. _If I don't do something, that wolf's going to drown! Just hope he has enough gratitude not to bite me once he's free…_ He reached the edge of the hard dirt, just feet away from the wolf. "Oh, this better not give me a disease," he grumbled. "It'd be like I died of irony." He stepped into the water, crouching down slightly to feel for the animal's legs. "Didn't think the mud would get you stuck like this, pup." He hissed as his hand brushed over something metal. "Wait…a trap?" He touched it again. It was most definitely a beartrap; somehow the poor animal had to have stepped on it, and in the worst possible place for a trap, too.

The water was up to the wolf's neck now. Its whines were becoming more frantic. "Hang on, I've got to pull you free." Leon tried to pull the trap apart, but his position left him next to no strength to exert on the trap. If he wanted to free the animal, he'd have to go down under the water. "Oh, _this_ is going to be fun." The water was just under the wolf's chin. "Here goes nothing!" He plunged into the brackish water, his eyes and mouth firmly shut. His hands felt around for each side of the trap, and he braced himself. With a growl, he pulled both sides of the trap apart just far enough for the animal to withdraw its leg. The instant it had, he released the trap and surfaced, coughing and spitting away the foul water. He crawled out of the puddle, plopping down next to the wolf, which was lying on dry ground and panting heavily. "You said it, buddy."

Now that it was free, he looked the wolf over curiously. There were no outward signs of any rotting, which was fantastic, and the animal didn't seem to be rabid, which was even better. With the filth of the water it was impossible to say what colour the beast's fur had been originally, but at least it was free.

Leon propped himself up, opening one of his watertight pouches and pulling out a small baggie. "I dunno about you, but I could use a little pick-me-up." He pulled a small strip of jerky from the baggie, tearing off a bite with his teeth. Leon offered the rest to the wolf. It looked at him warily, but after sniffing the meat decided it was worth a try. It bit the part of the piece that wasn't touching Leon's hand and pulled it away, scarfing it down in moments. The man chuckled, closing up the food bag and storing it away. "Well, that was fun and all, but I've gotta get back to work. Look out for those traps, okay?"

The wolf rubbed its head against his arm for a moment, then turned and ran off into the forest. Leon pulled himself up, sighed, and returned to the path. Thankfully, it was easy to find, and he was at the village in no time.

The village looked like a scene out of a fairytale; cobblestone walkways, modest huts, villagers in simple clothes, a well…there were even a few chickens trotting around. _Well, guess I'd better get to it._ He made his way to the nearest villager, who was using a pitchfork to move hay from a pile into a small wagon. "Excuse me, sir?"

The man jumped slightly, not meeting Leon's eyes. "I don't want any trouble…" he said, without pausing in his work.

"Don't worry, I won't make any for you." He showed the man a picture. "I'm looking for this girl. Have you seen her?"

The man didn't even look at the picture. "I can't get involved; they'll kill us all if we get involved."

"'They'? Who's 'they'?"

He didn't respond, merely dropping his pitchfork and shuffling away from Leon hurriedly.

"Sorry to have bothered you," the agent muttered in irritation, putting the picture back in his wallet. He continued on through the village, asking the occasional villager the same question. And yet no matter who he spoke to, they all repeated the same thing about not getting involved before running back to their houses. Before he knew it, the only company he had in the streets were the chickens, and if he didn't know any better, even they were keeping their distance. "The heck is everyone going?"

Leon knocked on several doors, but there were no responses from within, and they'd been locked. Frustrated, he kept at it regardless, checking every single building in the town. It wasn't until he tried a door adorned with a strange, triangular symbol that he found it unlocked. He slowly turned the knob, pushing the door inward as quietly as possible.

Inside, the decorations were simple but clean. There were no pictures, but nevertheless there was an air of warmth here even without a fire going. Leon closed the door gently, walking through the home cautiously. "Anybody home?" he muttered softly, moving his hand towards the holster that held his VP70. "Candygram!" he called out.

 _THUNK!_

There was a loud thump from inside a wooden closet. Leon drew his pistol. _Please let me just be paranoid…_ He edged towards the doors, which were not rattling. "You'd think I'd know better than this by now…" The rattling stopped. Leon took a breath, readied his pistol, put his hand on the closet knob and turned it.

A man came tumbling out of the closet, his hands tied and dressed up in the strangest outfit Leon had ever seen; it looked like someone had stuffed an entire Shakespearean play in there with the man, and it had somehow coalesced around him. Though the duct tape over his mouth probably wasn't period accurate. In protest, Leon ripped it off.

["Ah! A little rough, don't you think?"] the man said in Spanish.

Leon rolled his eyes, drawing his knife and cutting through the man's bindings.

["So, you're…not like them?"]

The agent stowed his pistol away. ["Well, I don't even know who 'they' are, so…no?"]

He finally cut the last strand of rope, and the man began rubbing his wrists, pulling himself into a sitting position with his back against the cabin wall. ["Okay, there's only one thing I have to know to trust you…"] He stared at Leon for a few moments. ["…You got a smoke?"]

Leon stared at the man for a few moments, before sighing and pulling out the pack from his pocket, offering one to the stranger.

"Gracias, mi hermano."

["These things are unhealthy, you know,"] he said as he lit it for the man with his R.P.D. lighter.

["Bah, you don't know what kind of stress I've been through."] He took a deep drag, ignorant of Leon's look of amusement. The man exhaled as Leon snapped the lighter shut. ["A bunch of outsiders invade the village with guns and strange accents, and when I tell them they aren't welcome, they stuff me in a closet. Ahh…but I do remember my manners."] He offered his left hand. "Me llamo Luis Sera. Y tu?"

Leon shook the man's hand. "Leon."

"Francés?"

"Americano."

Luis shook his head. "And you seemed like such a nice guy…" he replied in thickly accented English. He tapped his cigarette thoughtfully. "But…maybe you're all right. So, what brings a fellow like you to this forsaken place?"

Leon pocketed the lighter and pulled out his wallet, drawing a picture. "Have you seen a girl like this around?"

Luis gave the picture an interested look. "Hmm…can't say I have, and I pride myself on remembering a lovely lady."

 _But she should be here; our intel said…wait…_ He turned the picture around; it was the one of Sherry he'd taken just a few months ago. "Sorry, wrong picture." He fixed the man with a steady gaze. "That's actually my teenage daughter."

Luis froze mid-drag. He gave a small cough, smoke pouring out his nose. "…She has your eyes," he muttered hoarsely.

" _Adopted_ daughter; look, this girl here." He made sure that the picture was correct before showing it this time.

"Ahh, now who might she be? If I had to guess…she's the President's daughter, and you've been sent to rescue her, which must make you a government agent."

Leon raised his eyebrows. "That's pretty good for a guess. How'd you do that one?"

"Mi familia is a long line of psychics and oracles," he said mysteriously, taking another drag from the cancer stick. He blew out a ring of smoke, and gave the waiting Leon a wink. "Of course, catching a glimpse of her and overhearing one of the guards didn't hurt. Last I heard, she was somewhere in the church."

"Where's the church at?"

"It's in the other part of the village, across the lake. We've got a couple of small boats at the docks; if you're very nice and don't hit any rocks or logs, I'll let you borrow one of them."

"Thanks." He tucked away the photos, eyeing the man's strange garb. "So…what's with the outfit? Did Queen Isabella come to call?"

"Well, I am popular with the ladies; actually, this is traditional clothing for a priest of Los Illuminados. We don't get to pick the outfit."

 _He's a priest? Could he mean a priest for the local cult? The briefing said that hadn't been active in over a century…_ "Don't priests have hoods? And less than five layers?"

"Four," Luis corrected him. "And it's not my choice. If I had my way, I'd still be a cop in Madrid. Not the best of jobs, but more exciting than the family business. Unfortunately, I'm the only son, and familia es importante, sí?"

"Sí," Leon responded, smiling nostalgically. "I used to be a cop myself, you know."

"Another aspiring hero, eh?"

"Yeah. Only for a day, though."

Luis fell into a coughing fit. "Th-that bad? What did you do, drop the chief's car in a lake?!"

"My first day on the force was September 29, 1998. In Raccoon City."

The Spaniard's eyes went wide, the almost-finished cigarette dropping from his open mouth. "Joder…the incident with the viral outbreak? Desafortunado bastardo…wait, you're _that_ Leon? Leon Kennedy from the R.P.D.?"

Leon stared at him. "Don't tell me you were serious about the psychic powers…?"

"She kept mentioning you, but I didn't actually think-"

"Wait, 'she'? 'She' who?"

Luis frowned. "You don't know her? I thought she was working with you; government agent and all. She's got dark hair, wears a red dress…real icy type. She said her name was-"

"Ada Wong."

The man snapped his fingers. "Yes, that's her! Heh; you must be popular with the ladies too."

"Not in the good way," Leon said under his breath. Straightening up, he tucked the packet of cigarettes away. "It was nice to meet you Luis, but I'll need to get to the church. Can you take care of yourself?"

"Sí. But if you're headed there, you'll need this." He pulled a key from his pocket, handing it to Leon. "Those outsiders took the key when they locked down the church, but they didn't bother to check if we had a spare. Be careful; those cabrons will cut down anyone who even walks near them. Firsthand experience here, hermano."

"Thanks, Luis. See you around; try to act natural." He paused, looking over Luis's outfit. "Uh…act casual." He looked over the outfit again. "…Take care." And with that, he left the small dwelling. _Well, best report in._ He pulled the video phone from his belt and flicked it on.

"This is Leon. I've made contact with a member of the local cult; they go by the name Los Illuminados. The contact gave me Ashley's location and a key to the church she's being held in."

Ingrid face seemed to express the same distrust he felt. "Just like that? That's almost…too easy."

"Well, there's a complication."

"Naturally." Despite her tone, she had the clear look of someone who had finally made it back to familiar territory. "What happened?"

"There's another operative at work here that's claiming to be on our payroll. Do we have another agent in the field?"

"No; we would have told you if we did. Do you know who it is?"

"Unconfirmed; I'll give you an update once I've got a visual. For now, I'm headed to the church."

"Roger that. I'll see what I can dig up on these 'Los Illuminados' in the meantime." There was a click, and the call ended.

* * *

CHAPTER END

If there are errors in the Spanish translation (and spelling), please blame me, Google Translate and Word, in no particular order. ;-p

Hope you are all doing well, and see you next time!


End file.
